


Ahead of the Curve

by Anonymous



Category: South Park
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Consensual Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom Butters, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Knifeplay, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sub Kenny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mysterion lost; this was Chaos’ game now. Only the professor was slowly losing his own control.





	Ahead of the Curve

**Author's Note:**

> The Joker: See, their morals, their "code"…it's a bad joke, dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you, when the chips are down, these—ah—"civilised people"? They'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve.

The night was cold and dark. Barking dogs echoed between streets; car doors softly shut; Skeeter’s bar leaked muffled music and drunkards. The quaint mountain town of South Park was otherwise silent—until anti-hero Mysterion and trickster villain Professor Chaos exploded out of an access door onto the bank rooftop.

Mysterion slid into a ventilation system and back flipped over it to barricade himself from his enemy.

Professor Chaos advanced forward. “Running is futile, Mysterion,” he declared. “Face it. I’ve won this time.”

“Over my dead body!”

“So it shall be!”

Professor Chaos broke into a lunge and hopped over the vent; Mysterion scattered back just in time and tackled the professor as he landed on his feet. Sharp bits of grit cut into their skin as they rolled together. Finally they neared the rooftop’s low perimeter wall and Professor Chaos gripped Mysterion, swinging them around so the vigilante was pinned. His head banged against the cement.

“Surrender,” Chaos demanded.

Mysterion spat in his face.

He roared and dragged Mysterion close by the throat. Without releasing his chokehold, Chaos reached into his suit and flicked a blade out.

Surprisingly, Mysterion moaned.

“Shut up,” the professor said, shoving his thumb into Mysterion’s mouth.

Mysterion gagged. Then the flat of his tongue pressed up against Chaos’ gloved hand. Wet sounds itched at the professor’s ears as his thumb was being swallowed.

“Stop.” Chaos moved his hand away, smearing saliva over the hero’s jaw, coming around to cradle his head. The professor pressed the knife against Mysterion’s throat.

Mysterion tensed underneath him, shaking with barely controlled rage. Chaos could feel the tremors underneath his hands, feel it in the glare he received.

“I win,” he whispered, and cut across the strong, pale column of Mysterion’s neck.

A red necklace grew. Its beads began to bleed. Mysterion fell limp and quiet. He shut his eyes.

“You win.”

Professor Chaos beamed. “Now you will know the magnitude of my power.” He stood, pocketed the knife, and hauled Mysterion up. Mysterion complied, stiffly allowing himself to be half-dragged back to the access door.

Red and blue lights suddenly circled down the street, accompanied by far off sirens. Both stopped and turned to the distant noise.

“Come with me.” Professor Chaos jerked to the side of the roof and peeked over the edge. An alley dumpster sat below. He pushed Mysterion forward as if onto the pirate’s plank. “Jump or I’ll stab you.”

Mysterion peered down. “It’s a little high,” he muttered.

“You’ll break my fall.”

Professor Chaos roughly nudged him and Mysterion careened over. He landed in the dumpster with a hard thunk and loud moan. Chaos jumped after, hitting him in the back. A pile of garbage bags absorbed the shock underneath.

The professor clamored out of the dumpster, stepping on all of Mysterion’s limbs. “I’m leaving you with the cops.”

“Wait,” Mysterion panted.

Chaos barely heard. But he stopped. He always would.

Two hands slapped a grip over the dumpster’s side. South Park’s dark knight heaved himself up and out, collapsing on the ground.

“You broke my back,” he grunted.

“No I didn’t,” Chaos said. He sighed. “Can you walk?”

“Not fast enough.”

The wailing squad cars were encroaching. Professor Chaos carried Mysterion in his arms and broke into a sprint, cutting across empty streets and ducking into alleys to avoid detection. The sirens continued to move in the direction of the bank but Chaos ran opposite, to the back corner of town.

They arrived at an abandoned storage lot. Chaos opened the creaky gate with his shoulder and slipped inside. He unceremoniously dropped Mysterion to the ground once they reached his secret lair, and undid the unit’s padlock.

Chaos pulled the door up and ushered Mysterion inside. They paused in the dark before Chaos located the light switch and the lair was illuminated. Metal shelves lined the walls, stacked with empty hamster cages and boxes of Christmas decorations unused for years. Chaos had no need for anymore diabolical planning, just as the town no longer needed its unacknowledged guardian. He and Mysterion fought a different kind of fight nowadays, endlessly orbiting one another.

A mattress sat in the middle of the floor, fitted with a loose gray sheet.

“Take your clothes off,” Professor Chaos ordered.

Mysterion sneered where he stood, but began undressing anyway. He lost; this was Chaos’ game now. First he lowered his hood to reveal a black eye and several cuts and bruises. Then his gloves came off bloody-knuckled hands. His cape dropped to the floor, followed by his boots, suit, and underwear.

Chaos circled Mysterion’s naked form, prodding tender spots and stinging cuts. His fingers circled Mysterion’s bleeding neck; he pressed against the defeated hero’s back. “Get on the bed.”

Mysterion flopped onto his back and stared up at the professor in wait. There was no heat in the storage unit, and the outside cold permeated through the walls and floor. Mysterion shivered, cupping his penis with his hands.

“Don’t,” Professor Chaos scolded. He stepped forward and pinned Mysterion’s wrists against the bed.

“It’s fucking cold,” Mysterion complained.

“Don’t talk.” Still fully clothed, the professor pulled his dick out and shuffled forward so his pelvis was pressed up against Mysterion’s chest.

Mysterion opened his mouth, taking Chaos’ full length and girth with practiced eased. A wanton moan traveled from his throat throughout the professor’s entire body. His neck bent weirdly against the mattress as he attempted to bob his head; his irritated wound dribbled blood onto the sheet.

“You like it,” Chaos whispered. He gripped Mysterion’s hair and began fucking the hero’s mouth earnestly. He felt his dick punching Mysterion’s uvula. The hero gagged and gasped for breath. Chaos quickened his pace, reveling in the sweet sounds. He took either side of Mysterion’s head and held him flush against his pelvis as he came.

Mysterion swallowed, nostrils filled with pubic hair, unable to breathe or move or think. He tore away from Chaos once most of it had abated, and leaned over the side of the mattress to cough. Globs of cum and spit and blood splattered onto the floor.

Chaos jerked himself in one hand and Mysterion’s chin in the other. The last of his orgasm rushed through him and he spurted across Mysterion’s face. The hero simply laid there, spent, his tongue darting out to lap the cum at the corner of his mouth.

“How about we open you up?” Chaos asked, matter-of-fact. He stretched to a nearby chest and pulled out a large, tapered bulb.

Mysterion shook his head. “Please...”

Chaos ignored him, spreading his legs. He took the base of the plug in hand and held Mysterion’s hip down with the other, then forcefully shoved the plug in to its hilt without any preparation or adjustment. Mysterion screeched, canting upward, hands twisting in the sheet.

Chaos fingered the slit of his dick, smearing precum down its shaft. “I thought you were cold?”

“Fuck off!” Mysterion shouted. He twisted away, eyes shut tight, trembling all over.

The professor leaned forward, lathing his tongue across Mysterion’s neck. The blood he tasted was sticky and congealed. He felt Mysterion’s pounding heartbeat against his teeth and exhaled shakily, turning to press his face flat into the mattress. It was dark. His head buzzed.

He stayed there for several moments. Mysterion frowned, worming up a bit to look at him.  
“Professor?” the hero asked quietly.

Without looking up, Professor Chaos tore his silver headpiece off and gripped his own hair. “Big fat monkey balls!” he yelled.

Mysterion’s brow crinkled. His shoulders dropped and the defiant glint left his eye, alter-ego disappearing to reveal his true identity: the quiet Kenny McCormick.

Kenny gently turned the professor around. Gone was the merciless villain. Now he only saw Butters Stotch, who resolutely stared at the wall while grinding his teeth in silence.

“Butters?” Kenny pet his cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Butters pushed his hand away and sat up, still in costume. “You* are!”

“So what?”

This was the wrong thing to say. Butters inhaled sharply, eyes bouncing around the room. Kenny shuffled up onto his knees. Neither one of them was hard anymore.

“I’m okay, Butters. It’s over now.” Kenny reached into the same chest Butters had earlier and procured a first-aid kit. “I’ll clean us up.”

Butters nodded, at least. Kenny tore open an antiseptic wipe and quickly passed over his own face and neck. Then he unfastened Butters’ cloak, took off his gloves, and cared to his wounds. He kissed each part of Butters’ face as he finished, and then each of Butters’ knuckles. Butters squirmed a little when Kenny nipped his nose.

“D’you want that out?” Butters nervously asked once Kenny was done.

“Huh? Oh*.” Kenny laughed, pressing down against the bed he could readjust over the giant butt plug still buried inside of him. He sighed as it nestled deeper. “Nah, I’m okay.”

Butters shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I cut you up.”

Kenny covered Butters’ hand with his own. “Is that what this is about?”

“I liked* it.” Butters interlaced their fingers, his nails digging into Kenny’s skin. “I liked it a lot. It was scary.”

“I liked it too.”

Butters frowned. “You did?”

Kenny shrugged. “I don’t mind getting hurt. Seeing you so mad...it’s sexy. I like it when you hurt me. I can take it.”

“I lost it for a second,” Butters admitted. “I never felt anything like that before. It - ” He paused. “I wasn’t thinking about anything. I wanted to hit you again. Or - something. But I didn’t mean bad by it.”

“I know,” Kenny assured. He blushed. “It’s nice to be bossed around by you.”

“I’ve never been able to do this before. Sometimes I just snap and - ”

“Lose it? Get pissed off?” Kenny supplemented.

Butters swallowed. “Yeah.”

“You can do whatever you want to me. I like it when you’re mad. I can take anything.”

“No you can’t, Kenny,” Butters argued. “I’m scared I can’t stop myself.”

Kenny smiled sadly. “Don’t worry about me.” He pushed Butters back down onto the bed and slid on top of him. “Just forget about it and see what happens.” He kissed Butters languidly. Their mouths pulled apart with a pop. “I have room for it if you don’t.” Butters nodded in compliance, rolling his lips together to preserve Kenny’s taste. Kenny braced his forehead against Butters’ chest and let out a guttural moan.

Butters turned dizzy when he realized Kenny was bearing down on the plug, ass up in the air; he grew terse and silent, gasping in between pushes. Butters rubbed his sides and lower back.

The plug dispelled, dropping onto the bed. Kenny cried out and lowered his hips, nuzzling Butters’ chest and licking his nipples. He was loose and noisy and animalistic. Butters struggled to keep up, neurons misfiring as he took in Kenny’s unabashed vulnerability and need. His dick was hardening once more, nipples stiff with Kenny’s attention.

“Give it to me,” Kenny begged.

Butters held him to his chest and sat up against the wall. Then he turned Kenny around, guiding him to bend over Butters’ lap, knees on either side of his hips. “Suck my dick,” he ordered, bringing two fingers into Kenny’s gaped hole. Kenny took him eagerly. Butters hissed, still oversensitive from his first orgasm, and crooked his fingers in retribution. Kenny began bobbing his head, slurping loudly, pushing back against Butters’ hand. If Butters had half a mind he would punish Kenny for the impatience; it sounded like something Chaos would think to do. For now Butters simply scissored Kenny open further.

“That’s enough,” Butters said, tugging Kenny up by his hair. Kenny panted, boneless as Butters positioned him so they were facing one another again.

“I’m such a bitch,” Kenny gasped. “I’m your fucking bitch, Butters.”

“Oh, Kenny.” Butters flipped them over and spread Kenny’s legs to allow greater purchase, then slammed into him without pause. “My bottom bitch.”

“Huh - hah - Butters - oh, Butters - !”

Kenny froze. White stripes of cum landed across his chest. Butters finished soon after, spilling deep inside of him. They collapsed onto the bed. Kenny took Butters’ hand, bringing it around and holding it against his chest. “Don’t move,” he murmured, feeling Butters softening.

“I won’t,” Butters whispered. He kissed the nape of Kenny’s neck. “Thank you.”

Kenny squeezed his hand. “Mhmm.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> been playing the fractured but whole. i also love the dark knight.
> 
> edit for further reading:   
> \- http://southernsirsplace.com/dom-drop/  
> \- https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/the_dark_knight/quotes/


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